Emma
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Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a
comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best
blessings of existence; and had lived nearly twenty-one years in the world with
very little to distress or vex her.
She was the youngest of the two daughters of a most
affectionate, indulgent father; and had, in consequence of her sister’s
marriage, been mistress of his house from a very early period. Her mother had
died too long ago for her to have more than an indistinct remembrance of her
caresses; and her place had been supplied by an excellent woman as governess,
who had fallen little short of a mother in affection.
Sixteen years had Miss Taylor been in Mr. Woodhouse’s
family, less as a governess than a friend, very fond of both daughters, but
particularly of Emma. Between them it was more the intimacy of sisters. Even
before Miss Taylor had ceased to hold the nominal office of governess, the
mildness of her temper had hardly allowed her to impose any restraint; and the
shadow of authority being now long passed away, they had been living together
as friend and friend very mutually attached, and Emma doing just what she
liked; highly esteeming Miss Taylor’s judgment, but directed chiefly by her
own.
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